


And Your Soul Sang to Me (The Finest of Icy Promises)

by CruciatusFoe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: After a lot of arguing, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, M/M, Time Travel, Two Harry's, What's better than one Harry?, they'll get there eventually, very intense arguing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:00:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25541728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CruciatusFoe/pseuds/CruciatusFoe
Summary: Thrown rudely through the Veil, an unexpected visitor decides that maybe, it isn't as bad as it seems. Until he is recruited by Albus Dumbledore into the Order of the Phoenix where he decides that Fate really does enjoy making his life a lot more complicated than it needs to be, in this reality and the next.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Harry Potter/Voldemort, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 9
Kudos: 43





	And Your Soul Sang to Me (The Finest of Icy Promises)

The Veil pulsed vibrantly, the mist like waves seemed to swirl into one another at an increasing pace, building in intensity as lightning cracked across the surface, striking at the corners of the crumbling black frame holding the mist in place. The room darkened considerably so now that the only light source came from within the Veil, brightening to an almost blinding state before an earth shattering crash rang throughout the room, sending chunks of stone hurtling into the walls.

Amongst those chunks of stone, a figure was violently discarded out of the crumbling artefact, colliding and rolling brutally across the floor, eventually coming to a halt when the momentum finally ran out and then laid there motionless for a few moments to regain their bearings.

The figure was clothed in what appeared to be a black, leather brace tied around their mid torso accompanied with dark fitting trousers and heavy boots. Across their upper chest they wore a thin jacket with a black shirt underneath across which a thick, buckled strap was placed, evidently holding the long, black scaled-like shoulder cloak over their right side of their body.

A low, pained groan came from the man as he sat up, peering around him with distaste and rubbing at the graze across the left side of his face before using the same hand to push the tousles of black, curled hair out of his eyes. Shadowed eyeliner framed clouded eyes which continued to gaze around with caution but, with a familiar recognizing gleam in them, assessing his surroundings before fluidly pushing himself to his feet at the same time the door to the back of the room swung open with more force than necessary.

“Your hands in the air! Wand on the floor!”

A wand clattered to the floor in the dim room and gasps echoed around as more aurors flooded into the room, their eyes falling automatically upon the wrecked dais with incomprehensible shock before turning towards the figure who was the one undoubtedly responsible, who also, having remained silent up to now, chose this moment to speak,

“I suppose it's the target first, ask questions later route we’re taking?”

Immediately, the imposter had his hands bound tightly behind his back and a dozen other wands pointed at his figure. Two aurors stepped forward, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him forwards, wands now digging through the back of his clothing.

“Hey! Watch the uniform! Do you know how long it took for Him to design this thing?”

His protesting went ignored as he was forcibly escorted into the depths of the ministry, winding a path throughout the many corridors of the department of mysteries, flanked on either side by aurors who, the male thought, was taking this a tad bit over the top in all honesty; he had just got thrown through the veil for Merlin’s sake, the least they could do was ask if he was injured.

Sighing, he went along with them anyway, right up until the moment they pushed him into a chair, shackles clanking loudly into place around his wrists, and which he watched with a critical eye.

“What’s your name?”

He tried to turn away from the beam of light pointed at him by the end of a wand but the Unspeakable was relentless, nevertheless, he refrained from letting his magic unravel; opting to carry on the avoidance of being blinded, until the Unspeakable let out a loud gasp. It startled those standing around and immediately, wands were raised automatically and the figure watched with a tired wariness.

He froze, watching as the aurors and unspeakables alike looked at him in confusion.

“But- You’re supposed to be at Hogwarts, how-”

The Unspeakable’s eyes roamed over his uniform before widening, brown eyes settling on the silver initials of ‘L.V’ linked together by a red snake.

He had to move quickly, there was really no other choice since he couldn’t simply obliviate every single person in this room; he had his limits and knew them. Launching himself forward, the shackles snapped with a resounding bang and his magic shot forwards like a solid wall, sending the various persons flying to the furthest corners of the room.

Gathering his magic as fast as possible, he let it coil around him and sharpen into a vicious point before one swipe of his hand sent it spiralling forward, splitting into three other points and impaling three of the aurors’ arms against the floor to where they had collapsed seconds earlier.

Spinning on his heel, a burst of magic summoning his wand to him, the intruder fled from the room leaving chaos in his wake as he repeatedly struck at the walls as he moved, sending debris scattering across the floors and consequently hindering the aurors’ movements as the majority of them chased after him.

Ducking between various shelves, he finally came upon a relatively hidden door and immediately threw himself into the room beyond, shutting the door and locking it firmly behind him. Holding his breath, he waited until the footsteps faded off before glancing around at his surroundings.

He had hit the jackpot. A room full of what were essentially important and confidential papers. He desperately hoped that there was something in these files that could explain how he had ended up in what appeared to be an alternate timeline. Preparing for a long night ahead, he got to work.

Hours later, he sighed, tossing yet another document onto the pile to the side, finding that they contained useless information that had already been discovered in his own reality. Now he was stuck here and would undoubtedly have to hunt relentlessly for a way out, he didn’t like the way the aurors had briefly looked at him with suspicion after they must have recognized him.

A loud voice interrupted his musing,

“I saw him right over here, I’m pretty sure.”

“Are you sure it was a vision like last time? You haven’t been well recently.” Another voice spoke up, notably female, in response to the male’s own slightly confused tone.

“I’m sure, Mione’, he was right here!”

He edged towards the door, now understanding why the voices had seemed familiar. Cautiously, he opened and peered around the edge of the door, seeing the backs of a small group.

“Harry… this one has your name on it.”

The man finally noticed silvery orbs lining the shelves and covered in dust. Frowning, he assessed that these must be the prophecies that had been remarked upon back in his timeline.

Over there, he hadn’t paid much attention to them, even the one involving himself. Fate was no longer an obstacle to himself and his Lord.

Shaking his head, he ducked out of the room and angled himself out of sight, now closer to the group just as a **very** familiar voice interrupted the musings of the children.

“Hand it over, Potter.”

Gasps rang out through the narrow corridor, caught by surprise, the Death Eaters now surrounded the group. Hermione herself looked vaguely unphased as she held her wand tightly, glaring at the masked figures.

He tuned them out, turning to shuffle through the papers in his hands, mesmerizing as much as possible, only to be rudely interrupted once more as spells went flying and shelves started collapsing. He narrowly avoided the one that came down towards him, propelling himself backwards with a small rush of magic.

Chaos reigned. Ditching the paperwork, he sprinted into the crowd of Death Eaters, his attire already giving him an advantage to get out of the way. He heard shouts coming from further down and hesitated before turning back.

Meanwhile, the Hogwarts students found themselves vastly outnumbered with many of them sporting various injuries and some unconscious and cut off from the rest of them. They were now backed into the room containing the broken Veil.

That was when Sirius, who had turned up with the Order despite stern instructions to stay put, was blasted backwards by an explosive spell sent out from Bellatrix’s wand. Blood smeared the wall from where his head cracked resoundingly against it. For two people, battling on opposite ends of the clamour, everything seemed to dull down and focus on the vibrant red dripping between the brickwork.

They were both moving after Bellatrix in the next second, who spun on her heel, her robe flashing behind her with the velocity of her actions and who disappeared around the corner in their next breath. But they weren’t far behind.

Her cackling guided them out into the Atrium. A red spell flew from Harry’s wand, and Bellatrix fell, screaming briefly before it turned into shrill laughter as she writhed across the tiles.

She panted, clawing her way back onto her feet, “You’ll have to- ah- do better than that!”

Just as Harry was about to raise his wand for a second try, a chilling voice came from behind them,

“Harry Potter.”

Both men, despite the fact that one of them wasn't the true target, froze in place. A high pitched whistle shot towards them both, a spell the Other recognized and acted accordingly, throwing up a large webbed shield. The spell bounced off of it, heading back towards Voldemort with speed who deflected it with a flick of a finger.

The air itself seemed to freeze as the Other placed himself in front of the young boy.

Voldemort’s voice was glacial,

“Who are **you**?”

No reply was given. Voldemort’s knuckles went white around the yew.

Harry, who was still positioned behind the stranger, was suddenly snatched up by a gust of wind but placed back on the ground softly, a few metres away. He watched in anticipation as the atrium seemed to warm and then, in a burst of magic, flames erupted around the Other.

He was going to face off against Lord Voldemort himself, Harry registered. He tried to push himself onto his feet, to help, but found that he couldn’t move so much as a finger. His wand was no longer in his hand. Eventually, after minutes of struggling, he ditched the effort to try and break free and turned his head to watch the building fight.

A stream of fire coiled across the floor, protruding from the end of a rod, that of which was grasped in the figure’s right hand; waiting like a snake to strike. The initials on his chest disappeared.

Flashes of spells then struck and everything was a blurry array of different colours, bouncing around the atrium and shattering various objects; the fountain figures were pulverised to dust, glass panes were blown out of their frames.

“Harry!”

The Order had emerged back from the depths of the ministry and Sirius was supported between Remus and Kingsley. Harry’s rage had calmed substantially and now he found that he could move himself.

Dodging around the commotion, Harry ran over to Sirius who tore himself free from their grip and immediately tugged his godson away from the danger just as a spell crashed into the wall next to them; it would have hit if it hadn’t been somewhat blocked at the last moment by the flaming whip.

The man who was still fighting, hissed in discomfort as a curse rippled up his arm, burning the currently exposed skin.

Kingsley and the rest of the Order started forwards, intending to outnumber Voldemort and restrict the Death Eaters from advancing any further when a heavy force stopped them in their tracks.

They couldn’t move any further. Nor could the Death Eaters.

The man, now with his free hand outstretched, held up two walls of magic on either side of the atrium, precisely in front of the two separate groups.

Twirling the handle of the whip in his right hand, he channeled his magic from the cloak, feeling satisfied as the black scales moved to embed themselves over the back of both hands, around his wrists and over the back of his neck. They gleamed in the light.

Lord Voldemort briefly paused, cataloguing this new information before stepping forwards once more, engaging in combat with this sudden, mysterious rival. Potter now lay forgotten in his mind.

The fight seemed to drag on for hours, both the Order and Death Eaters couldn’t interfere as the two men twirled around each other, blasts of magic destroying the floor around them. It crumbled, to the point where both opponents were split off from everybody, standing on nothing but a narrow strip of tiled flooring.  
“We need to do something!”

“We can’t get through, what do you expect us to do?”

“I can’t see anything!”

Shouts echoed around the atrium as many were at a loss as to what to do. Bellatrix was crouched underneath the ruins of a fireplace, admiring the power swirling between her Lord and this other man.

It was then that a burst of flame appeared in the dead center of where Lord Voldemort and the Other were fighting.

Both sprung back, away from the scorching heat as it materialised into the figure of Albus Dumbledore and his phoenix.

An enraged hiss and a flash of green instantly sprung towards Dumbledore who conjured a tide of water to send both Lord Voldemort and the Other rolling away with the resulting waves. Getting to his feet, the Dark Lord looked around him with reluctant disgust, red eyes flashing with promised retribution, settling on Harry who froze at the sheer display of hatred in the look.

He blinked and he was gone. The Death Eaters including Bellatrix were gone also.

Many waited with bated breath as the rest of the Ministry employees descended into the ruined atrium, withdrawing cameras and capturing as many photos as possible; blinding people in their wake.

“He was there!”

“You Know Who! Everyone saw him.”

They bickered amongst themselves, Fudge in the middle of it all.

“I am sorry to say that I don’t believe we’ve met.”

The man, rearranging his cloak back over his shoulder with the scales now shimmering back over it, turned to find Albus Dumbledore staring at him with blue eyes, absent of the twinkle.

“Oh? I’m new here. Arrived last week, fresh out of training.”

Dumbledore inclined his head,

“That was some fine duel work, are you becoming an auror?”

“No, I haven’t yet decided on what career path to choose from.”

Albus was silent for a few seconds and was about to speak again when Harry ran over, interrupting,

“Sorry Professor but Fudge has cornered Sirius and they’re trying to arrest him, the Order are refusing and I’m worried it’s going to get worse. I don’t want them to take him away again.”

Here Harry glanced at the man, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Thanks for saving me back there, I didn’t think that He was going to show up.” He cut off, mumbling incoherently.

The man smiled, “No problem, it’s been a while since I’ve had any practice in a life threatening situation.”

Albus cleared his throat, looking between them both.

“I think that perhaps it would be beneficial if this man was to work alongside the Order. His talent would be an asset to us. What’s your name, my boy?”

“Arion, sir.”

“Arion, would you be inclined to join the Order of the Phoenix?”

Harry looked up at Arion with something resembling curiosity in his gaze. At the same time, Arion saw very familiar aurors and some Unspeakables heading towards the minister with prompt speed.

A very short pause, “I would be honoured.”

**Author's Note:**

> After taking a step back to improve my writing, I'm fairly happy with how this chapter has turned out and hope you all enjoyed!
> 
> Feedback is welcome :)


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